“ Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it enkindles the
great."

--Comte DeBussy-Rabutin

Jack,


What is it about your voice that makes me think that every time you
talk, every time you part your beatific pale lips to speak, I think I am doing
something so right with my undying affection?


What is it about hearing your voice, the late night phone calls when your voice is
so full of passion, so full of fervor and such a seemingly powerful longing to just
talk to me, just be near me that makes me fall in love with all over you again
every single time with every second that tics by?

What is about the minutes, the moments we share that make me realize it’s all
worth it? During every moment of pain when the throbbing ache in my heart is just
too much and I want it all to just stop, God, just stop, what is it about you
that makes me put down the blade and throw the pills down the toilet, flush, and
watch as they slowly go down, away, and out of my life forever? Can you tell
me what it is?

And why do I love you anyway? Why do these feelings never seem to go away?


While charming, yes, but smothering, no, what makes you so dear to me, so
priceless, so irreplaceable, and so treasured? What have you done to
deserve any of the affection, the adoration I’ve set aside just for you, a distinct and so
separate token I keep just for you, a emotion that, if you so desire, can secure
safe inside your locket?


Well, it could it be your true and so gentle tenderness that you exhibit with
every kiss, ever touch. Is it how careful you are not to shatter and break me, like a
porcelain and somewhat delicate petal of a daisy that grows inside your garden?
Or is it how instead of a somewhat meaningless possession, trophy on your shelf
of victory of Lover’s Past, and instead you treat me as the first-class winning and
the most fitting piece of your present and your future?


No, it’s all that and more, for I think it is because all you ever wanted was to be
loved by me and, afterall, who am I to deny you anything when I feel the same
weakness for you with every breath I take?


And, hell, while I am thinking of it, who am I kidding? Who am I to question how
you are entitled to every glance, every ghost of whisper I breathe on your neck of
my infinite devotion in our closest of moments? You deserve it all, from the love I
possess in my being to every bit of admiration that is plainly displayed in my eyes
that are brimming to the edge with un fallen tears, of joy and happiness, of course.

But do I deserve the returned emotion reflected back in your eyes, a mixture of all
colors so beautiful, all hues of your grey and blue eyes I have come to adore and
call my own? (Those are my colors…)

And why is your love so strong and your heart so true? What have I done to be
worthy any of your time, deserving of each and every moment you spend thinking
about and falling in love with my voice over and over again?

Why is it you dream of me and you, my arms around your neck and yours around
my waist? What is about me that makes your palms sweat and your eyes dance?
Why do you still get those butterflies in your stomach and that throb in your
heart?

How is that you came to fall in love with me…how is that your hand came to mine
and never let go; why haven’t you released me yet? Not that I’m complaining, for
until the ride is over and the cars have come to a halting stop and we all just sit
back and look at where we’ve been, I’m going to soak up every bit, bundle it up
and wrap it around me so it keeps me warm at night.

How is that you think your love is stronger and your intentions purer? For how
could they be when mine are so clear, and my daydreams of your lips on mine so
dizzying?  How could you think so when my heart is so light and my eyes so bright
whenever you are near? How could anything you think you have in your bag of
tricks and tactics too win me over compare to anything I have in store for you?


I’m afraid you’re fighting a loosing battle, my dear, for it’s your love versus mine
and I’m afraid I am winning.


Love,

Lauren